


The Great Vestige of a Summer's Lie

by yellowlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Flirting, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Sexual Tension, srangers to frenemies to almost lovers to strangers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowlou/pseuds/yellowlou
Summary: "So," Louis started once they ordered their food and found a table to sit at, "what made you just randomly decide to try and pick up a summer fling with only three weeks left of summer?" His face was rapt, eyes a pool of wonder, as he took a small sip of his sweet tea.Harry looked caught off guard and he blinked twice to make sure he wasn't imagining this. "What do you mean? I never said this was an attempt at a summer fling." He tried to hide his initial shock and permanent offense."Well, I'm no narcissist, Harry, as I'm sure I've expressed, but I have never seen someone try so hard to get my attention. You must be attempting something." Harry pouted and he laughed. "But, I've also never seen someone try so hard to make me happy, so you're heading in the right direction."-Harry Styles meets Louis Tomlinson at a bar in his hometown by chance and promises him that forever is in the palm of hands. Now all he had to do was get Louis, dubious and, unfortunately, painfully beguiling, to believe that it is more than just a promise of a few good weeks.
Relationships: Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. clumsy and pretentious (prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work on ao3 so please bear with me as this is a learning process! Enjoy a story that was born from looking at a vocabulary list at 7:22 P.M. on a Thursday night.

Harry Styles needed a drink.

It was a long, never-ending week and he had never been happier to have finished his last two weeks of work before never having to walk into the smelly kids' restaurant again. A godforsaken place. He knew that, to celebrate his surviving of both his sophomore year of college at one of the most prestigious colleges there is _and _his summer job that consisted of stinky feet and oily cheese pizza for six hours a day every single day, he needed to go to the best bar his small town of Holmes Chapel (the most boring place on Earth to most, but rather picturesque to him) had to offer and order his favorite, tequila sunrises that give him the most satisfying hangovers.__

Meeting Louis Tomlinson was never on the agenda of this overworked twenty-year-old, but fucking hell was he glad it happened.

Harry walked into the bar, making a beeline for the bartender. Despite the general emptiness that took over the very town he had grown up in, the bar was surprisingly crowded, full of laughing mates celebrating the nearing end of the summer and new jobs and some random piece of shit's tenth girlfriend of the month. He looked up, eyes meeting the bartender's own, shining and sweet, and smiled. "Hi! Can I get a tequila sunrise? It's been a long week." 

The guy-- _Ernest, _his nametag said-- gave Harry a gentle look of sympathy. "I know the feeling. It seems as though everyone in simple Holmes Chapel just wants beer and more beer. Who knew such a tedious job could make for such a long week? It's surprisingly nice to have a change of orders."__

__Harry's mouth tweaked up a bit higher. "I was always told when I was younger I was different from the rest." He attempted to flip his nearly shoulder-length hair but, being uncoordinated and generally clumsy, ended up just slapping himself in this face. Ernest laughed and covered his mouth seconds after, realizing it's probably rude to laugh at a costumer's failure of either narcissism or acting like a 2000's movie white chick. "As I said," Harry giggled, fixing his hair and regaining his composure, "special."__

A shadow appeared behind Harry then as Ernest greeted, "Hey Lou!"

Harry was about to mumble he hadn't mentioned his name, until he felt a hand gently brush against his wrist and a figure appeared next to him. "Hey, Ernie."

The sound of the strange voice made him jump in his skin a bit, but as he glanced over he couldn't help the second jump. The man had a gorgeous smile that seemed to light up the room and wavy brown hair that swooped gently over the left side of his forehead. He glanced in Harry's direction, eyes a sparkling blue that hypnotized him and kept him glued in place. "Hey, mate," he said in a gentle whisper, lips tugging up ever-so-slightly in a friendly smile that caused Harry to fight the urge to give him his big goofy grin. He willed himself to act like a normal human being standing beside a totally average human and calmly grinned, waving his hand in the slightest of motions. The man turned back towards Ernest, his hands finding their way into the pocket of his baby blue jean jacket he wore over a black shirt that said "Love Will Tear Us Apart." Harry smiled; that was one of his favorite songs. He started to gently hum the chorus to himself, lightly listening to the conversation about to unfold itself in front of him. "Can I get a refill, Ern? I'm dying of thirst, absolutely parched. I think you'd become the bestestest if you would kindly give me more vodka." 

"Straight?" Harry asked, not meaning to butt in but not able to keep his thoughts to himself.

The man looks over to him again and, with the wink of his eye said, "No, gay, but I take my vodka in a cocktail, random person who I hope is not interested in trying to buy me a drink. I'm not a total barbarian, I can't do straight vodka."

Harry laughed despite his embarrassment. "Sorry," he muttered lightly. He felt his cheeks be drawn on in six shades of pink as he glanced down at his heeled boots he decided to wear out tonight.

Ernest went about readying the man's drink and Harry allowed his eyes to wander a bit more. He noticed the spots of ink revealed from beneath the sleeve of the man's jacket and tight black skinny jeans that had suddenly never looked better. There were a tiny pair of scuffed-up vans resting loosely on his feet, and when Harry's eyes scattered back up he found a pair of piercing cerulean orbs already staring right back at him. He gulped, going to say something when Ernest returned with his drink. "There you are, Louis."

The man with pretty eyes and tattooed limbs had a name, and his name was Louis. It made a smile dance across Harry's face that he had cracked the code--or rather, it had been cracked for him--of Mystery Man's name and he left his mind to jump at the possibility of getting to know him. He quieted his overbearing thoughts though, smiling as Louis walked away.

He looked to Ernest, only to be met with brown eyes full of mischief and a smirk resting on his face. Apparently Harry sucked at waiting for people's eyes first. "Who's he? Do you guys know each other?"

He realized he probably sounds like either an overprotective boyfriend or eager stalker as he listened to the gentle noise of Ernie's tiny snickering against the loud sounds that filled the bar. "He's one of my old classmates from high school, Louis Tomlinson."

"He sounds like a business man," he giggled at the thought. Then: "A hot business man."

"Unfortunately for _you_ , he's pretty much strictly all business. Why're you asking about him? Are you trying to get some or something?"

He realized it probably _did_ sound as though he had some misleading intentions with his sudden interest in a stranger and thinking he was hot, however he actually did mean it. "Not at all!" he exclaimed a little too loud for a place as public as a bar. He wasn't quick to hide the incredulity and sheer embarrassment in his voice. "I would never use a man like that. Or a woman! I just--"

"What's your name?"

"Harry Styles."

"Listen, Styles," Ernest started, and Harry felt he resembled a footie coach more than a bartender trying to help him with relationship troubles. "Louis, he's... ambitious, to say the least. He doesn't get distracted very easily. That man hasn't had a good fuck in _years_ \--"

"Not really my business, Ernie."

"--if he's _ever_ even had a good fuck."

"Double not my business, mate! I don't want to know about your old high school mate's sex life!"

Ernest chuckles. "I'm just telling you, man. If you're interested, Lou's not an easy catch. You have to be in it for the right reasons. Don't promise forever if you can't give him forever. Got it?"

His chest suddenly feeling extraordinarily heavy, Harry nodded, taking a sip of his well watered-down tequila sunrise. "Good luck."

*

"Hi, you're Louis, right?"

The man looked up from stirring his drink gingerly, eyes once again meeting Harry's. "Fuck's sake," he muttered. "What do you want? In case you didn't notice, I'm trying to enjoy my vodka."

"Is it too strong?" Harry found himself asking, not quite understanding why.

"What?"

"Your drink, is it too strong? You've been sitting here stirring it, but I don't think I've seen you actually take a drink."

He began to think he'd messed up until Louis' mouth ghosted a smile as he whisper-yelled over the sound around them, "Don't tell Ernest. He'd kill me if I gave him a bad review.”

Without asking, he sat down across from Louis as he laughed. "He seems like the type of person who'd do that."

Silence swallowed them for a moment before Harry gulped loudly and Louis queried, "What is it you came over here for again?"

It came out a bit haughty, however Harry assumed that he didn't mean for it to come out in such a way based upon his gentle smile and folded hands. 

Harry knew what he was about to say could take him to the periphery of this conversation and he could up and blow any chances he may have had at getting to know Louis. Cautiously, as if poking a bear, Harry stated just below a whisper, "I wanna get to know you. Maybe hang out some time. You seem really cool. Sorry."

Louis laughed into his drink and Harry shamefully felt butterflies tickle him gently. "While that is sweet, I don't even know your name--"

"Harry Styles."

"--and, even if I do, which you've made sure of, who's to say that I would choose to spend my very valuable time with a stranger I met at a bar who probably just wants to bang a few times and never talk again?"

Harry felt a sigh escape his lips and he shook his head. It was reasonable, and any other time he would have just walked away, but for some reason his butt remained glued to the chair. "For one, I would never do that to you, Louis. Secondly, I genuinely just want to know you. Something about you is just so warm and welcoming, it's made me feel confident enough to come talk to you tonight."

There's a dry laugh from across from him that is followed with, "Wish _I_ new what that quality was so I could rid myself of it. Would save me some time and patience."

"Please, just give me your phone number. We can, like, go on a final summer escapade and make a scrap book or some shit."

 _A scrap book or some shit?_ Begging for a pretty boy's number and saying _that_ was truly a new low for him. 

"I'll give you my phone number," Louis said, a slight smile subconsciously tugging upon his lips, "so long as you never say that again."

"Deal!" he smiled.

Louis smiled back, almost seeming forced, writing his number on a napkin with the side note: "Thanks for ruining my drinking, you pretentious asshole <3."

"See you, Styles."

"Bye, Lou."

That night, Harry Styles went to bed with faint thoughts of the imminent future, a very pretty boy, and the nine digits written on a napkin in his trashcan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to TGVOASL. I hope this story is as great as all of our favorite larry ao3 fics, I know you know the ones. This will be written over a good amount of time, and was started on November 19 of 2020.


	2. puppies and promises

Harry Styles was never the chaser. In middle school, he stayed to himself. In high school, every girl was after him, but he just smiled and, as kindly as possible, would explain to them he's not looking for a relationship Even now, half way through college, he mainly stayed to himself and minded his own business.

He had never been the one to chase. He had never been the one to fret over when was too soon to text, what certain things meant, any feelings at all. He hated it with every fiber of his being, but with Louis Tomlinson, it was different.

Of fucking course.

He felt like a teenage girl, staring at his lonely cellphone that lay on the nightstand beside his childhood bed. His mum figured that at 9 o'clock at night he would be asleep, exhausted from their day of running errands, cooking dinner, and all of the catching up he had done since being home for the last three weeks of summer. He was exhausted, no doubt about it. Sweet, picturesque Holmes Chapel seemed like it was full of nothing sometimes, which made it easy to forget just how much of _everything_ he had to do at home. He was thrilled when the clock hit eight, because he knew that's when his mum went to bed and he was never too far behind her. Quicker than he had liked, that thrill turned into irritation: he couldn't sleep because his mind was running in circles around the boy with cerulean eyes and soft hair and an untouchable facade that he met at a bar. He had this boy's number. He didn't get anywhere.

Harry had never put this much effort into something (and that wanted to scare him but couldn't, for he acted as if the perspicuous truth was inscrutable). It had been four days since he had met Louis, and he barely talked to him at all. It wasn't like the attempt wasn't there; he spent ten minutes trying to figure out what thoughts he wanted to put in words without sounding like a creep. He almost let himself fuck off and send, _pls have my babies louis i love u ha ha_ , but that was a one-way ticket to being blocked, which was less than optimal.

Their conversations lacked actual conversation and went a little more like this:

_hey, wyd?_

**nothing, u?**

_same_

**cool.**

_yeah._

It was what kept Harry up at night. Never in his life had he found himself in a position where he lacked words to say before meeting Louis. He couldn't help but wonder what that could possibly mean. Maybe under Louis' unreadable layers was the sad fact that he had a dry personality and he was already rubbing off on him. Or maybe Harry continuously lost his words around him because he was some kind of word thief from _Dora, The Explorer_ and he had to tell him to stop swiping. "No, that one's a bit stupid," he muttered aloud, unaware the words had slipped.

He laid on his side, ticking off thought after thought with a slight kick of his foot, before his hand finally reached out and grabbed his death trap of a phone. He clicked on the messages app, already hating himself for an additional attempt that would likely be a failure. His fingers hovered in the air for a second as he tried to formulate a sentence in his mind before dropping and typing out in a lazy fashion:

_hey, r u up ?_

He waited a few minutes, hopeful that the person who occupied his mind would at least talk to him to hush the imaginary Louis that whispered endearing lies. He felt a petulant sadness start to wash over him after about ten minutes, realizing he likely wouldn't get a text back, until he saw the three tiny dots at the bottom of the screen. A joyful grin overtook his face as he waited for a reply.

**unfortunately. what's up?**

Excitement made its course through Harry's veins as his fingers moved rapidly against his screen, the sound of the letters being pressed drowning out the Tinier Louis in his brain.

_well, i'm bored and i can't sleep. why r u up ?_

**can't sleep, either. mind won't stop running.**

_same here._

_hey, i totally get it if you don't want 2, but do u want to call ?_

He held his breath unknowingly, expecting a definite 'No,' in response. The bubbles stayed at the bottom of the screen for so long Harry started to think his phone had broken from the pressure of and sweat from his hands. He hoped they would go away soon, so he could breathe before he passed out and missed the text altogether.

**i don't sound the best right now, but sure. :)**

A squeal escaped Harry's lips and he laughed, quickly covering his mouth in hopes his mum wouldn't hear it. He willed his heart to calm down as he pressed the tiny green button, waiting for the dial tone to end and the paradise that was Louis Tomlinson's soft lullaby of a voice to begin. "Hello?" he heard from across the line.

The voice was sleepy and Harry tried his very best not to swoon too hard. "Hi Louis. How are you?" He bit his lips, trying to avoid smiling because then he really _would_ be classified as a teenage girl for the night.

Unfortunately, he failed. Louis cleared his throat. "I'm okay. Tired and I wish I could fall asleep, but I'm okay. How are you?"

 _I'm ecstatic. I'm amazing. I'm over the moon right now because we're actually_ talking. "I'm alright. I'm kind of on the same page as you. Thank you for talking to me. I'm sure you have things you'd much rather be doing."

"Sure," Louis said, and Harry swore he heard the tiniest trace of a small smile (but a smile is a smile). "It's nice to talk to someone new. It's actually kind of nice to speak real words other than 'cool' and 'nothing, you?' You know what I mean?"

"Oh, absolutely. I'm actually really happy about that too, and I'm hoping I haven't made that overly evident." Louis chuckled lightly over the line and Harry's heart fluttered. It wasn't a staged chuckle, or one that can be heard almost anywhere if you listen well enough; Louis' tiny giggle was tired and soft, an inviting whisper that made Harry feel warm and utterly comfortable at the first instant of its presence. "Anyways, what'd you do today?"

The call went quiet as Louis salvaged the day from his fading memory. He let out a quick breath of air, following with, "Nothing, really. I don't know why I'm so exhausted, considering I spent a majority of today reading and playing dolls with my younger sisters."

"Shut up," he says, "you didn't tell me you had sisters!"

"And one baby brother."

"And one baby brother?! I want to live in your house, I love being around kids!"

Louis laughed, a burst of sound breaking silence. "Believe me, you don't want to."

"But-"

"You _don't_ , Harry."

Somehow, after two hours of talking, they had a day of hanging out tomorrow planned and they had fallen asleep on the phone.

*

"So, you mean to tell me your great plan to get me to magically fall in love with you is to take me to the mall? Please tell me the rest of the day isn't as teenage-y as this part." 

Harry tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, averting his eyes from the closing passenger door. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it with a nonchalant head shake. He willed his brain to somehow fart out a new idea that wouldn't keep Louis bored and could help him get a good second impression.

When the car took on an uncomfortable silence, Louis glanced over with slighter softer eyes. "Harry?" he asked.

Harry spared him a quick look, eyes switching back to the road the very next second, as if the road would swallow them up whole if he wasn't paying well enough attention the entire time. "Yeah?'

"I was kidding," he spit out, fidgeting with his fingers. "I'm excited to go to the mall. Haven't had time in a good while. I'm a very sarcastic person, that's all." Harry nodded, a fake smile dancing onto his face.

"Okay," he nodded, shaking his head quickly. "So, my plan is we could go to the mall and maybe do some school shopping or just get coffee and walk around--"

"No coffee. Absolutely not. We can get tea, but I refuse to get coffee."

Harry laughed, making a mental note that Louis despises coffee. Could be useful. "Okay, we can get _tea_ and walk around. We have to stop by the puppy store though. That's an absolute necessity."

He looked to Louis in the mirror, seeing a smirk creep onto his face. "So, the puppy store is nonnegotiable?"

"That is correct."

"So there's no way in hell I'd be able to stop you from going into the puppy store?"

"No way in hell."

"And I can't try to convince you not to go in?"

"Fucking hell, Louis! Do you not want to see adorable puppies or something?"

He buckled over in laughter at Harry's spasmodic outburst, tears rushing to his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. Harry took note of his airy laugh and how different it was in daylight in comparison to the hushed night time rendition of it. "I do," he finally pushes out in a last attempt of air, "but I wanted to test your limits."

"You're a little shit, Louis."

"Are you allowed to call someone you met five days ago a little shit?"

"Are you allowed to test the limits of someone you just met five days ago?"

They shared matching smiles as Louis stated in more of a giggle than a statement, "Touche. Anyways, what was the rest of your Dazzling Plan of Great Adventure?"

He watched Louis give him a dramatically enthusiastic grin in his peripheral as he struggled to get back on the train of thought he jumped off of. "Um, after the mall I was thinking we could go to the movies and, if we don't get too full at the theater, we could maybe get dinner or something. What do you think? Is it as dazzling as I advertised it to be?"

The latter sat in consideration for a second, contemplating all of the activities, before muttering complacently, "Could be better."

Harry rolled his eyes, knowing this time of the blue eyed boy's sarcastic manner and he allows himself to relax. He was well aware that this was really the first time they were talking other than the night before on the phone, but he felt a scary feeling of immediate comfort around him. He did his best to ignore the possibility of feelings being imminent as he drove, Louis humming softly along with the radio. 

*

"Hi! I'll get a grande iced peach green tea, thank you."

"Sure thing," the barista, Courtney, smiled. She gave Louis a light wink, her eyes obvious as they wandered along him.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, turning his attention to Harry. "What did you want, H?"

He smiled at the girl, trying his very hardest to hide his light feeling of disgust. He understood; Louis was hot as fuck. That was kind of a given. People with the name _Louis_ were usually really hot, whether they tried or not. Granted, he did form this opinion upon meeting him, but that wasn't the point. He still tasted an undesirable, indecipherable statement of an unwanted feeling creeping onto his tongue at the barista's total bravery. Sure, it was impressive, but it made his skin itch as he watched her eyes linger on him for a second longer before inattentively scattering to meet Harry's waiting gaze. "I'll get a venti caramel frappuchino, please."

A fake smile was plastered across her face as she nodded and went about making their drinks as Harry placed his card back into his mess of a wallet. He wondered if she thought they were together, and the thought made him laugh. He knew it was unlikely--Louis would probably rather die than be his boyfriend. How tragic is that? He could settle for friends, he supposed. "What are you laughing about? The fact that you're jealous a barista was checking me out?"

Harry let out an unexpected laugh, boisterous and so out of place the people surrounding them stopped and turned to find the creator of such a noise (which only made him laugh more, and Louis mouthed, 'I don't know him'). "No, I'm not jealous. I was laughing about how disappointed she was to see my presence. My high school was filled with pretentious and incredibly snotty girls and insolent teenage boys who thought it was funny to toy with hearts, and even then I'd never seen such a fake smile. I'm not enthusiastic to see myself either, but she could have at least _acted_ like she didn't think my entire appearance was absolutely sordid."

Louis let an uncontrollable cackle leave his body at his complaints. "I don't blame her. I'm not happy to see you, either."--a snarl and slight flick--"I was kidding!"

"Were you really or are you just saying that so I'll leave you alone for a minute?"

Harry wanted to stay angry but found it close to impossible as he watched a sly grin grow on Louis' face and heard the words, a gentle whisper constructed purely for his ears to hear, "Maybe a bit of both?" He felt an untimely, scarily vehement feeling then at the sight of a golden smile and sweet kisses of words; he felt that maybe he wouldn't mind if he was the one Louis would allow to get close. He wouldn't mind laying beside him late at night, holding his hand during scary movies ( _does he like scary movies?_ ), giving him gentle kisses at the end of the day. The thought of it was lucid and Harry noticed this new-found desire was almost so palpable he couldn't be breathe.

It was too soon, wasn't it? Hell, he had only met this man five days ago and he acted like he was falling. (Of course, he wasn't. Harry Styles doesn't fall, that's how it goes.)

There was just something about Louis. It was a secret written in a language no one knew; it was such a strong feeling that had no true way of being written. He just had this energy about him that made the people around him feel like they were in some type of bubble, hidden from the cruel world. Being around Louis made the world seem like it could be a good place. People could smile, people wouldn't always get hurt, sometimes you could take the chance and it would do you well. Every moment was simple yet so complicated it made sense. There was an airy and light feeling surrounding him; Louis was a breath of fresh air.

"I'll let it--"

"Order number 28, your drinks are ready."

"That's my tea!" Louis squealed, rushing forward to collect his tea (nearly forgetting the drink of the person who paid...whoops). "So, tell me about this puppy store you're forcing us to visit."

Harry rolled his eyes, taking his coffee from Louis' tiny hands. He paused for a short second, racking his brain for the stored information about the small mall shop. "It's on the second floor, next to Macy's and Nelly's Pretzels."

"Wait, I have an important question, Harry." He nodded as a response and Louis continued. "Why are stores always possessive? Like, okay Macy, happy you own a store but why don't you call it _Clothes R Us_ or some bullshit? I don't want to say your name every time I want to go clothes shopping."

Harry stopped in his tracks, his mind struggling to process the words that left his companion's mouth. Then: "What the fuck?"

Louis giggled and Harry's heart raced a bit at the sound. "Never mind. Puppies, go."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "The puppies are a necessary visit when I'm at the mall because, for one, I like dogs. For two, I always donate to the store. I bring in food and treats for the puppies, so they always let me meet the little pups. The owner, Lisa, tells me funny stories, too. She told me once that one of the old puppies that got adopted--his name was Daxton--was the trouble-maker of his siblings. Since he's a stinker and also a dog who likes food, he'd always manage to get himself out of his kennel and steal food from Nelly's and bark at people. That's one of her funniest stories, I think."

Harry looked over as they stepped onto the same rising platform on the escalator only to be met with Louis' kind eyes and a saccharine smile so sweet and adoring Harry was worried he'd get a tooth ache. "So, you really like puppies?"

Harry's grin reached his eyes as he huffed out, "Absolutely."

*

"Lisa darling, it's Hazza," Harry spoke kindly as he walked into the strangely deserted puppy store. The puppies barked, their tails wagging rapidly at the two of them (see--even puppies liked Louis Tomlinson). A young looking woman walked out from behind the counter, her eyes sparkling and her smile all teeth.

"My Hazza! Look at you, have you gotten taller since I last saw you? I swear you have. And, oh, who's this?" She glanced between the two and hid her mouth behind her hand, whispering, "Have you gotten yourself a boyfriend?"

Louis' cheeks flushed as he introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Louis. Not quite his boyfriend, but--"

"Are you his fuck buddy?"

Harry's cheeks looked like roses blossoming in the summer. He cleared his throat and smiled. "Lisa, Louis is my friend I met a few days ago. Not my boyfriend or my fuck buddy."

"Unfortunately?"

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "We're both back in Holmes Chapel for the next few weeks and decided to hang out. I thought it would be fun to go to the mall, and I just _had_ to bring him to meet you and the pups, as I've said multiple times."

"Yes, a great deal of times," Louis pitched in cheekily.

"Do you think we could spend some time with the pups, considering they already have an immense interest in Lou?"

Lisa looked around at the puppies all wagging their tails excitedly, eyes locked on Louis' tiny figure. "That'd be great, actually. Seems like you'll have to share your boy toy, Haz. It's great to meet you, Louis."

"Lisa, he's not--"

"It's okay, Haz," Louis spoke, once again, for only him to hear. It seemed that Louis had that tendency; he declared when certain things were made for certain ears. Harry thought he might like to try that.

As they followed Lisa behind the counter, the two allowed their eyes to wonder over Lisa's appearance. Her hair was a shimmering teal that Harry adored, dipping low on her back. She sported a leather jacket and ripped jeans, her feet snuggled up in combat boots. Harry himself had no idea how old Lisa truly was, despite how long he had known her for, but she couldn't be a day over twenty-five, if that. She certainly knew how to make getting older look like it was purely the opposite.

"Oh my God, so many fucking puppies."

"And you tried to argue with me about coming to the puppy store."

"Forget any word that my bloody mouth has ever said other than 'I love puppies.'"

Snickering, Harry whispered to Lisa, "I almost thought he was a cat person."

*

After nearly an hour of playing with puppies, another two hours of trying on outfits and running from store to store, and another ten minutes of waiting in line for the bathrooms, Harry was tuckered and Louis was complaining.

"Harry, I'm starving! I'm gonna fucking die and it's going to be all your fault. You better be paying for my funeral."

He earned an eye roll and a sassy remark of, "Pay for your own fucking funeral. Do you want to get pretzels from Nelly's?"

"No, thanks," he said softly. "Nelly's seems good, but I think I'm a bit too hungry for just a cup of pretzels to clench my cravings." He paused for a second, formulating the words he wanted to say. "Haz, I know you had suggested going to the movie theaters, but do you think we could possibly skip that part and get dinner? I don't mean to crush your plans, sorry."

Harry did his absolute best to avoid swooning over how genuine Louis was being, but he failed miserably. Though, who wouldn't? The world's kindest person was standing in front of him, ocean eyes calm and round lips speaking soft truths, apologizing for his own tiredness that Harry caused. He allowed his smile to dance over his lips and his eyes to sparkle as he responded in a hushed murmur, designed for Louis' ears only, "That's alright, Lou. We can catch a movie some other time."

The two wobbled out to Harry's Jeep, Louis' grunts of hunger fading into the evening wind's susurrating and sighs. They babbled about where they should eat, ultimately deciding McDonald's would be the best option despite the slight distance because: a) They were more appropriately dressed (in ripped skinny jeans and random t-shirts) for McDonald's than any of the nearby fancy restaurants, and b) Louis was craving chicken nuggets almost as badly as Harry had been craving fries. A shared McDonald's craving was as close to soulmates and a phenomenal dinner as one could get.

"So," Louis started once they ordered their food and found a table to sit at, "what made you just randomly decide to try and pick up a summer fling with only three weeks left of summer?" His face was rapt, eyes a pool of wonder, as he took a small sip of his sweet tea.

Harry looked caught off guard and he blinked twice to make sure he wasn't imagining this. "What do you mean? I never said this was an attempt at a summer fling." He tried to hide his initial shock and permanent offense.

"Well, I'm no narcissist, Harry, as I'm sure I've expressed, but I have never seen someone try so hard to get my attention. You must be attempting something." Harry pouted and he laughed. "But, I've also never seen someone try so hard to make me happy, so you're heading in the right direction. What were you saying earlier about the existence of nothing? It was so confusing but you've got me questioning it now, too."

Harry smiled uncontrollably. This entire day had been a whirlwind of emotions and experiences, but he found himself sitting on a dirty McDonald's bench smiling until his face hurt; smiling because a pretty boy he met at a bar and decided to take a chance with was letting him share his random thoughts that were so full of nonsense they made the most sense. He wanted to know him, at least a little bit. "So, I have this theory that nothing truly exists. Think of it this way: have you ever had moments where you feel like you had no utter control of what you just did?"

"Yeah, all of the time."

"What if that feeling is true. What if everything--the way humans see the world, the feelings they feel, the things that exist, humans themselves--is just a blanket of emptiness? Sure, we have scientific proof of the Big Bang and how things came to be and blah blah, but there are so many missing pieces. Have you ever noticed that?"

Louis sat still a second before pushing out, "What the actual _fuck_. Harry, your bullshit makes sense."

"Exactly! Plus, how is it that, if this universe truly does exist, upon galaxies and galaxies of stars and planets and opportunities that have existed for billions of years, the 7 billion people on Earth and the animals among us are the only signs of life? It's like we were some lie created for the pleasure of some higher force that hides beneath that blanket. We suffer through life, but our emotions are nothing but nothing, they don't matter to anyone but ourselves. I think that's proof enough as is. What do you think?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, blinking. "I think that that all could be very true, but I need my chicken nuggets and a bit more sweet tea before we can really start talking."

As if on cue, a waiter walked over to them with their food neatly piled onto the probably not properly cleaned tray. Harry held back a shiver at the thought and smiled, reading the boy's name tag, _Niall_. "Thank you, Niall," he smiled generously.

Niall grinned at the two, his blond hair falling softly over his face. "No problem. Enjoy!"

"You too," Harry smiled, followed by a facepalm and chuckle from Louis. "I'm the worst at that."

Louis giggled as he ripped open his sweet and sour sauce. "At least we know you're kind. Thank God for chicken nuggets, sweet tea, and McDonald's french fries."

Harry sent him a clandestine smile, taking a bite of his own food. "Louis, what's your favorite color?"

While dipping his chicken nugget, he replied, "Kind of an orange-ish red. Not like, the crayon version of orangish-red, but the color you can only see in sunsets dripping into the sea or...fall leaves, I guess. What's yours?"

"Well. Yours is all poetic, and mine is yellow because it reminds me of happiness."

"I think that's poetic in its own way, actually. It suits you."

"What do you mean by that?"

Louis smiled, stirring his tea. "It means that you're the type who would buy Girl Scout cookies because it would make them smile. You would donate to a puppy store because you don't want to see them go hungry. You'd buy something because it made someone laugh to see you wear it. You'd take a chance with a stranger because you want to make them feel something again. It's a good thing, Harry. You're yellow, you make people happy."

It's a challenge to stop the words _I love you_ slip from his mouth, but he managed. "I think you're the beauty you see in sunsets, and the bravery of leaves that fall only to be crushed and strengthened once again. You're brave, kind, beautiful, bold, and everything in between. Is that too much to say to someone I just met five days ago?"

The man across the table tried not to let on that he was enjoying the compliments, but he unfortunately failed. "Honestly? Not enough."

That's when they started throwing fries at each other, and eventually got kicked out of McDonad's by an irritated Niall.

*

The drive to Louis' family home was too short and Harry felt a childish sadness overtake him as he pulled up to the curb. "Thank you for letting me take you out tonight, Louis. I had a lot of fun."

Louis smirked. "I did too, but... was this a date, Styles? I thought you told me we were doing the, you know, hanging out thing first."

Harry bit his lip, trying to decide on what would be an appropriate response. "Maybe we can do the hanging out thing tomorrow instead?"

Louis' eyes flickered down for a second, coming back up to meet Harry's in a fixed way that was awfully titillating. "Tomorrow, hm? Will you miss me that much?"

 _I will be not be inappropriate and I will not say anything embarrassing._ "Depends on in what way you mean." _Damn it, Styles._

"You know what I mean. I like that idea, hanging out tomorrow." He paused his tantalizing speech and the still air threatened to suffocate Harry. "Since this is technically a date, does that mean I should kiss you?"

He found himself gulping at the offer, and he shakily muttered out, "If you want to."

Louis leaned in close and Harry let his eyes flutter shut. His lips waited patiently, but were disappointed as he felt a sharp breath against his neck and a coarse mutter in his ear, "Too bad I don't kiss on the first date, then."

When he opened his eyes again, Louis was opening his door and getting ready to leave. "Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for tonight."

The door was closed lightly and he watched as Louis ran to his front door, waving quickly before going inside. He allowed his head to lightly hit the steering wheel and he sighed, chuckling. "Louis."

When he got back to his own home, his mom was fast asleep and he realized he had been out later than intended. He checked his phone, seeing one new message from Louis. He got ready for bed, getting comfortable and finally reading the words he typed.

**you called me lou today.**

_u called me haz today._

**yeah, i did.  
night, haz.**

_night, lou :)_

He fell asleep to the thought of sunsets and sunshine.


End file.
